


Marring the maze

by xJane



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bipolar Disorder, Enemies to Lovers, Friends With Benefits, Getting Back Together, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Mentions of Smut, Mutual Pining, POV Alternating, Post-Break Up, References to Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:54:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26324476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xJane/pseuds/xJane
Summary: Eliott broke up with Lucas shortly after their date on the houseboat. But they have never been able to let each other go fully. They find themselves trying to navigate their emotions and getting stuck in the maze they created for themselves.
Relationships: Eliott Demaury/Lucas Lallemant
Comments: 40
Kudos: 153





	Marring the maze

**Author's Note:**

> So this is... something.
> 
> I am still unsure about this fic, but I wanted to get it out anyway.
> 
> Let me know what you think.
> 
> <3

_Man's destiny appears as a thread lost in an endless labyrinth_ _– Marcel MARCEAU_

*****

“Listen, uh, we’re gonna have to stop doing this,” Lucas said, while pulling on his jeans.

Eliott didn’t answer, and Lucas glanced back towards the bed.

Bad idea, Lucas, he scolded himself silently, as he saw Eliott’s naked body languishing lazily and satisfied on the mattress, a thin sheet doing a poor job of covering him. Eliott was always beautiful, but like this, he looked ethereal. His skin flushed, his hair damp and tousled, his eyes bright. Lucas took in the mouth-watering sight, the shadows playing over Eliott’s chest, one of his long legs dangling out of the bed.

Lucas averted his gaze, and repeated: “We need to stop seeing each other like this, Eliott.”

Eliott hummed non-committally.

“Sure, Lu.”

Lucas bit his bottom lip. He knew he’d said this before, although the last time had been a long time ago, years ago in fact, when they were still unsure about where to take this… arrangement. But he really needed Eliott to understand it this time, or Lucas would definitely go insane.

It would have been a lot better if they had never started with whatever they were doing, but he was three years too late to undo it.

Their hooking up had started not long after their break up.

Three and a half years ago, Eliott and Lucas had met in high school, and they’d had a few intense weeks of flirting, kissing, circling each other’s orbit in fascination. Lucas had thought they’d been together, had even introduced Eliott officially as his boyfriend to the gang, and told his mom about their relationship. It had been a big deal for him, and even though it all had been messy and impetuous, Lucas had believed in them.

Until it had all come crashing down.

His last perfect memory was a wonderful date on a houseboat on the Seine. They had done nothing but eating weird food – Eliott was known for his insane flavour combinations –, talking for hours, getting high on weed and champagne and love, and most of all enjoying each other in the best possible way.

But by the end of the day, Eliott had been acting strangely. Lucas had left, exhausted by the lack of sleep. He had been slightly worried when Eliott had practically bounced off the walls, saying he was not tired and planned to go tag an abandoned building. As Lucas later discovered, it had been the onset of a manic episode – he had not known about Eliott’s mental illness until then – and when Eliott had arrived back in school a week later, he’d broken up with Lucas. Lucas hadn’t understood, he had been certain Eliott’s feelings for him had been sincere. Their time together had been too perfect to be a lie. However, Eliott had told Lucas he’d cheated on him with his Lucille during his episode. Lucas supposed it was karma coming back to bite him in the ass, to be cheated on with the girl Eliott had cheated on with Lucas. Lucas had been willing to forgive him, but Eliott had refused to listen, and claimed he’d made his choice.

Eliott had broken up with Lucille again only a few weeks later, this time for good, but by then Lucas had mourned what could have been and had needed to guard his heart. Somehow, however, Eliott had become a part of the gang, and Lucas and he had become friends.

And that’s how they should have stayed – but didn’t.

One night after the gang had been out, they’d drunkenly ended up in bed again. Lucas had missed the feeling of being cherished, and cared for, and Eliott knew Lucas’ body. It had been good, and Lucas had almost managed to convince himself his heart hadn’t been involved. He had left shortly after the act, and he and Eliott had agreed it was – well, maybe not a mistake, but definitely not something they would do again.

The first few months, it had been like that. They’d tried to stick to their word. But then they’d get drunk or high enough to tell themselves they didn’t know better, and ended up in Eliott’s bed.

And after a few times, they didn’t need the excuse of substance abuse anymore to fool themselves. One evening, Eliott had called Lucas asking him to come over, and Lucas had known exactly what Eliott was suggesting. He’d debated with himself for all of five minutes, and then he’d hurried over as fast as he could.

It had become a regular thing after that, always at Eliott’s flat, mostly at Eliott’s insistence, although Lucas had come over uninvited a couple of times too, when the urge became too heavy to ignore.

Lucas never slept over, no matter how late it was, or how cold outside, or how much Eliott begged. He knew he’d not be able to leave if he woke up in Eliott’s arms again.

It was the best and worst thing in Lucas’ life, this thing with Eliott. They were good together. Even their first time, covered in paint in their old high school, which by all rights should have been messy and awkward and at best lukewarm, had been so incredibly good. They fit together, their bodies seemed to know what to do, and over time they’d only gotten better.

Lucas hadn’t dated anybody since Eliott. He’d kissed the occasional guy, been set up on a few dates, but nothing ever stuck.

The gang kept teasing Lucas, kept telling him he needed to get laid more often. Eliott laughed right along with them. Sometimes, when the night grew long and the talk inevitably turned to sex, the boys would turn to Eliott for some stories about his adventures. Eliott would talk about Lucas, without naming him, describing how Eliott had gotten an awesome blowjob, or how he’d managed to make his partner come three times in a row. Lucas would listen to Eliott describe their nightly escapades to the gang, pretending it had been with his latest date, and he hated it. The gang would only tease him more whenever his blush crept up, and Eliott would lean back, silent again, his eyes looking into Lucas’, an apology in them.

Eliott, unlike Lucas, had been dating non-stop. He’d stayed single for a few months after Lucille, but after that summer, when he had started university, he’d been going for it hard. He just went from one person to another, never staying long, never getting invested.

He sometimes joked to Lucas that his longest relationship was with Lucas.

Lucas didn’t think it was funny.

In fact, it was painful to hear.

But Lucas only had himself to blame.

He was brought out of his trip down memory lane when Eliott, who followed his movements intently from his comfortable position stretched out on the bed, spoke.

“You sure you don’t have time for round… what would it be, Lu? Three, four?”

Lucas sighed as he tried to find his socks.

“I’m serious, Eliott. We gotta stop this.”

“Yeah, Lu, sure. Fine. Until next week, right?”

Lucas glared. He seethed at Eliott’s detachment, his easy dismissal of what Lucas said. As if he knew Lucas wouldn’t be able to stay away. And just a month ago, he’d have been right, but now Lucas had to get it through to Eliott that they were done with this arrangement.

“No, Eliott. Not until next week. And not the week after either. We’re ending this.”

Something in his voice must have finally reached Eliott, because he sat up, unbothered by his nudity as the sheet pooled in his lap. Lucas looked away, willing himself not to blush.

“You’re serious,” Eliott stated, calmly, but maybe just a bit surprised, too.

“That’s what I said.”

“Okay,” Eliott replied. Lucas looked over, and for a minute, he thought he saw a flash of something pass through Eliott’s eyes, but it was gone before Lucas got a good look.

“Okay,” Lucas repeated, a big lump in his throat, sitting down on the bed to tie his shoes.

He felt Eliott staring at his back.

“Why?”, Eliott asked as Lucas stood and grabbed his phone. His voice was neutral, measured.

Not turning around, Lucas swallowed. He had hoped Eliott would just accept his statement without demanding a reason.

“Does it matter?”, Lucas asked quietly.

“Yes, I think it does, Lucas. I think I deserve to know.”

There was now something else underneath the careful calmness in Eliott’s voice, but Lucas couldn’t decipher what it was. He bit his lip again, furious at the familiar prickling behind his eyes.

He still didn’t turn around, his hand on the doorknob, ready to leave Eliott’s room for the last time.

“I never promised you anything, Eliott.”

“Why, Lucas? Just tell me why,” Eliott demanded.

He heard the sheets rustling. It sounded like Eliott was getting dressed.

That was new.

Eliott stayed in bed after they had sex, and Lucas got dressed and left.

A quick glance over his shoulder did show that Eliott was indeed busy collecting his clothes from the floor.

Shit.

Lucas needed to go, now.

“It’s just time. This was never even supposed to happen, Eliott, you know that.”

“I don’t know anything of the sort, Lucas.”

“Oh, come on, Eliott,” Lucas exclaimed, exasperated. “We broke up. You broke up with me.”

“Three years ago, yeah, Lucas, I’m aware of that,” Eliott stated, hotly.

“Yeah, so this…”, Lucas swallowed away the lump in his throat, while gesturing to the bed, the tissues littering the floor, Eliott’s half-naked body, “should have ended three years ago, don’t you think?”

“Maybe that would have been better, yeah,” Eliott conceded, quietly, and somehow, Eliott’s agreement didn’t sit well with Lucas. It felt too much like Eliott was dismissing all the times they had done this, like it had been a blip on his radar, something he could easily have done without.

“So what have we been doing all this time then?”

“I thought we were having a good time.”

“You were, maybe,” Lucas muttered beneath his breath, but Eliott heard him.

He stopped getting dressed, and in two strides he was with Lucas, grabbing him by the shoulders, turning him around. His grey eyes were hard.

“Your screams and pleas for me to fuck you harder would suggest you had a good time too, Lucas!”

Lucas bit so hard on his lip he drew blood. Eliott had never been so callous about whatever they had going on between them, so crude. He didn’t want to break down now, not in front of Eliott.

“Oh, fine, Eliott, yeah, you made me come. Am I supposed to thank you now? Grovel at your feet?”

“No,” Eliott retorted angrily. “What you’re supposed to do is tell me why you’re running away.”

“I’m not running away! I’m just saying we can’t do this anymore!”

“And I want to know why.”

“I already told you! I’m not your boyfriend anymore, Eliott!”

Lucas was frustrated, and tired, and he felt his heart breaking.

“And?”, Eliott retorted, just as incensed.

“You don’t get to break up with somebody and still fuck them, Eliott.”

“I don’t see what’s wrong with that, Lucas. Neither did you for the past three years, if I might add.”

And well, he wasn’t wrong, was he? He was exactly right, and Lucas had blindly, gratefully, accepted whatever Eliott was willing to give, without worrying about how much it affected him over the years.

“I am not your fucktoy, Eliott! You can’t keep calling me every time you get a boner! You can’t keep using me as just a convenient lay!”

“You came to my bed willingly, Lucas,” Eliott said, his voice now icy.

“Yeah, yeah, I did. So I can decide when I had enough, too.”

Lucas turned around.

“I never forced you to fuck me, Lucas. You chose to do that.”

The tears spilled from Lucas’ eyes now, and he just wanted to leave, like he’d done so many times over the past three years.

“Okay, Eliott, you are right. What are you trying to prove? That you’re some sort of sex god and I can’t resist you? I left your bed every time, Eliott.”

Eliott didn’t reply for a few moments, and when he did, it was almost too quiet for Lucas to understand.

“Yes, you did.”

There was sadness in his voice now, and Lucas almost reached out, willing to take everything back, saying he’d been joking, wishing for Eliott’s beautiful smile to come back.

But he couldn’t.

Not anymore.

It wasn’t just about him any longer.

“Eliott… I have to go… I’m sorry…”

“Just tell me why, Lucas.”

Eliott’s face grew harder again as he threw him a look of steel. He seemed determined to stop Lucas from leaving. He looked like he would come after Lucas, get on the bus with Lucas, follow Lucas all the way home to get an answer. And Lucas needed to get away from Eliott, needed to leave this place, before he gave in again, before he caved, before he broke down and told Eliott everything.

“Because it would be unfair to my boyfriend.”

And before Eliott could react, Lucas ran out the door, ran out into the Paris night, and kept running until his lungs burned harder than his heart.

*****

Eliott needed to commit everything to memory. Better yet, paint it, make sure all the details would be preserved forever, available to come back to later, when he would inevitably need to revisit this.

He needed to paint the look in Lucas’ eyes as he was close to coming, how his lips formed Eliott’s name in a plea, how his eyelashes fluttered as he struggled to keep his eyes open, the faint pink on his cheekbones which Eliott wanted to lick off every time, even after all these times.

He needed to paint how Lucas spread his legs obscenely for Eliott, urging him deeper, closer.

He needed to paint how the shadows played on Lucas’ back, his butt, as he laid on Eliott’s bed, spent and sated.

And he needed to find a way to bottle the sound of Lucas’ moans, the smell of his hair, the taste of his collarbone, the warmth of his skin right as Eliott was about to take his boxers off.

He had to find a way to keep the feeling of Lucas’ dick against his tongue, the taste of his cum, the way he clenched around Eliott as he sank down on him.

He could still feel Lucas’ fingers on his hips, sometimes so tenderly as if he wanted to caress Eliott, at other times hard, leaving bruises in the shape of his hand. Eliott secretly cherished those bruises, tracing them after Lucas left, a tangible memory that Lucas had really been here.

His hand tracked down the path Lucas’ lips had followed earlier, from his lips over his jaw to his neck, down to his collarbone, his chest, and then straight down over his stomach to his dick.

He closed his eyes, trying to recall what it had sounded like when Lucas had licked and sucked with abandon, attempting to remember what it had looked like when Lucas had, for the shortest of moments, looked up to Eliott with such trust and innocence in his blue eyes that Eliott had had to look away.

Lucas’ parting words had shaken his core, ruined the foundations of his whole life. He felt like he was dropped into the centre of a huge labyrinth without an exit – forced to wander around endlessly in circles. His head was a maze of conflicting emotions. On the one hand, he should be glad that Lucas was ready to let go of whatever there was between them. He never wanted to tie Lucas to him, to force Lucas to deal with him. But on the other hand, he was hurt and confused. Hurt that Lucas would leave him behind without any remorse, confused about his own mixed feelings, and utterly lost. He wanted to beg Lucas to give him, Eliott, another chance, like Lucas had begged Eliott all those years ago. But he didn’t. He sat there, alone in his room, like he had sat there longing for Lucas after every time Lucas had been over.

He knew he shouldn’t be upset, or even surprised. He’d had three years of respite. Three years in which he desperately held on to something that wasn’t his to hold on to. Three years in which he had made himself believe that their sham of love was all he needed, all he wanted – when he had known it was anything but.

It had never been what he wanted.

Because Lucas hadn’t been his. He had had no claim on Lucas, no right to Lucas. He had had Lucas’ body, but he wanted Lucas’ soul, Lucas’ heart, Lucas’ entire being. He wanted to belong to Lucas and have Lucas belong to him.

It had been a fucked-up mockery of what it should have been. It had always felt like a dream, as if Lucas was merely a ghost, a figment of his imagination. The bruises on his body and the pain in his muscles were the only tangible proof Lucas had really been with him. Never anything else – never a forgotten jacket or even a dirty towel in the hamper.

Lucas came and went almost unnoticed.

It had always been a bad idea, right from the start.

It was a pale imitation of what love should be like, a fata morgana, a mirage tricking him into believing he had found salvation. It was a shadow of what he wanted, a reflection in a broken mirror, a blurry photograph.

He had always known he would never be able to hold onto Lucas, slipping away from him like quicksilver. The brief, fleeting moments where he got to hold Lucas were his reason to continue, even though his heart became more and more brittle every time Lucas walked away.

Now, the dry and fragile organ shattered, when he realized he wouldn’t kiss Lucas ever again.

There was no way out of the maze. He didn’t know if he should even try to find it. He was the only one responsible for it – he, Eliott, with his messed-up brain, his insistence he couldn’t be with Lucas, his spiel about sex without feelings.

He was a better liar than he had given himself credit for.

And now – he could see how things would go. Lucas would find happiness in someone else’s arms – if not the guy he was seeing now, then somebody else – men must be lining up in droves for a chance to be loved by Lucas. And Eliott would be happy for him, and supportive, and proud. He’d listen to Lucas’ talk about his lover during game night, and he would laugh along with the boys and tease Lucas until he blushed – and he would not think about all the times Lucas had blushed in this very bed.

He would not let the image of Lucas coming undone under someone else’s hands stumble him. He would not lose it when Lucas would go home early when they went out, ready to be with the man he loved, instead of waiting until everybody else was too drunk to notice he left only two minutes after Eliott, ready to meet up with him for a clandestine thrust.

At least nobody could deny him his recollections of the last three years.

He needed to save it, all of it, the memories, the way it had been for so long he almost had forgotten it was never going to be permanent, if this had been the last time that he’d had it.

If he finally would be forced to let Lucas go.

If he would have to give up the only good thing in his life – for real this time, forever this time – even if it hadn’t been good since high school, since he had ruined it all.

If this was really the last time Lucas had left him.

*****

Lucas was late for their Friday tradition of video games and pizza with the gang. He’d found some excuses the last few times they were supposed to get together – a forgotten deadline for a lab project, he’d promised Mika he’d watch Twilight with him, hell, he’d even lied about his mother doing worse and needing him – but Yann had made it clear he better get his ass over to his place tonight, or else.

Lucas didn’t think he could handle a therapy session with Yann, so he’d made his way over.

It had been a month since he had left Eliott’s flat for the last time, and they hadn’t seen each other or spoken since. Lucas steeled himself as Yann buzzed him in.

He hadn’t told the gang about Nicolas yet. It was all very new and unfamiliar, even to him, and he needed to take things slow.

But Eliott would probably bring it up, and that would be its own special form of torture.

Yann stood in the doorway, and he looked at Lucas with worry in his eyes.

Shit.

That didn’t promise anything good.

“Hey, Lucas. You okay?”

“Yeah, fine, Yann,” Lucas answered, handing Yann the beers he bought at the corner store.

“Okay, get in, the others are already here,” Yann said, sounding somehow strange.

Lucas took a deep breath and passed Yann. He stepped into the living room, where Arthur and Basile were already bickering about who got to go first and who cheated the most.

“Uh, where’s Eliott?”, Lucas asked nervously.

“Ah,” Yann said, quietly. “I already thought so.”

“What? What is going on?”

Yann stared at Lucas intently.

“Eliott has been missing.”

“Huh? Missing? What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said. He has been a no show for the past few weeks. Much like somebody else I know,” Yann added, an inquiring look in his eyes.

“Oh.” Lucas couldn’t help but feel relieved at the reprieve. “He’s probably just busy. Maybe he’s started dating someone new.”

“He’s never put any date over hanging out with us, though,” Yann remarked matter-of-factly.

Unsure how to take this information, Lucas shrugged.

“Maybe it’s serious for once.”

Yann hummed. He looked like he had more to say, but Lucas wasn’t in the mood, so he threw himself on the couch between Arthur and Basile, wrestling the controller out of the latter’s hand, and let himself be overtaken by the chaos that followed.

It was only after Yann had thoroughly annihilated the other three, when they were munching on their pizza, that Arthur brought up the subject again.

“Hey, Lucas, what is up with Eliott? He doesn’t answer any of our texts.”

“Uh, why would I know? I haven’t seen him recently.”

“Why not?”, Baz asked. “You two are usually the closest out of all of us.”

Shit. Were they, really? Lucas didn’t think he behaved any differently with Eliott than he did with the others – at least not when they all hung out together. Did the boys know about what happened between them late at night?

“Well, sorry to disappoint, but I don’t know. I have been busy.”

“Oooh, lover’s tiff,” Arthur, who clearly had been drinking faster than the rest of them, mocked.

Lucas bristled.

“In case you forgot, Arthur, Eliott has had about a thousand lovers after he and I broke up, so knock it off with your stupid jokes.”

“Alright, fuck, Lulu, you sound like you’re jealous!”, Arthur muttered, annoyed at Lucas’ outburst.

Lucas tried to stay calm. Until a month ago, Lucas would, on any given night, have about a fifty percent chance to be the last person to have left Eliott’s bed. Now, though, things were different. Lucas knew there would have been others since their last time. Eliott hadn’t been celibate for a whole month in years, if ever. No, wait, he had been once, right after he had broken up with Lucile that second and final time. But well, he’d probably been heartbroken at that time. Ever since that time though, Eliott had never been without action for long, and Lucas had just been one in a long string of people to warm Eliott’s bed.

So Arthur be damned, jealousy had never been a part of it.

Whatever emotion was strumming through Lucas right now, at the idea of Eliott being with someone else, of Lucas never being with him again, it was not jealousy.

Besides, he had Nicolas now, right?

And maybe Lucas had also been drinking a bit too fast, because that’s what he decided to retort.

“Why would I be jealous? I have a boyfriend.”

For a few moments, it was silent, and then Arthur forgot all about being annoyed, and tackled Lucas in a hug. Basile immediately threw himself on top of Arthur, and they both squealed happily.

“Oh, Lulu, awesome!”

“How long has it been?”

“Is he hot?”

“Is he a good kisser?”

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?”

“Is that why you haven’t been over lately?”

“Does he treat you right, Lulu?”

“If you need tips for romantic dates, just let me know. Daphné says that I –”

“Fuck, Baz, Lulu can figure out his own dates.”

“When can we meet him?”

“I’m so glad you’re finally getting laid again, Lulu!”

Lucas shoved both of them off, not without effort, and sat up.

Yann still sat leaning against the couch, a beer bottle in his hand, his dark eyes unwavering. Lucas didn’t know what Yann was seeing, didn’t want to know.

So he turned back to Arthur and Basile.

“He is hot, and a good kisser, and yes, I can figure out my own dates, thank you, and well, it’s new, I guess…”

He hated the uncertainty creeping into his voice at the end. Yann heard it too, and he raised his eyebrows.

“So are you in love with Mr. Boyfriend, Lulu?”, he asked nonchalantly, sipping his beer, but Lucas could hear the serious question – and the implications that came with it – beneath the words.

He bristled slightly at it.

“His name is Nicolas, Yann,” he said, sarcasm dripping from the words.

“Ah, sorry,” Yann said, calmly. “So are you in love with Nicolas, then?”

Lucas knew Yann was trying to communicate something, but he refused to give in to it.

“We’ve just been dating for, like, a month or so, Yann, so it’d be a bit soon for love, don’t you think?”

“You tell me, Lucas. I would say you’re capable of falling in love with somebody within a month, wouldn’t you?”

Oh, so that’s what he was implying, Lucas realized. Eliott, again. But it was of no importance. For too long, Lucas had let Eliott rule his life. It was time to stop giving Eliott that much power over him.

“Really?”, he asked, his voice saccharine. “Would you? I don’t know. I’ve never been with anybody for a month, have I?”

Yann hummed.

“So you’re saying you’ve never been in love, then?”

And fuck, sometimes Lucas wished Yann wouldn’t know him so well, wouldn’t read him like an open book. Wouldn’t know exactly which buttons to push. He tried to play it cool, but he knew his cheeks were giving him away.

“Ah, I see, so you have been. But not with – what was his name again?”

Lucas took a long swig of his beer, telling himself Yann knew nothing, he was just fishing, throwing out hooks to see whether Lucas would bite.

For once, he was saved by Basile.

“Hey, are we still playing, or what?”

Lucas ignored Yann’s hook and grabbed Basile’s lifeline like a man drowning.

He saw Yann’s gaze, clearly saying that he wasn’t done yet with the subject and that they would continue their conversation later, but for now, Lucas was safe.

After multiple rounds, when everybody was getting ready to leave, Lucas tried to slip out past Yann, hoping to get away without the latter noticing, but the hawk-eyed boy was on the lookout.

“Lucas, wait a minute, I wanted to show you something.”

Clearly expecting Lucas to protest, he grabbed him by the wrist while seeing Arthur and Basile out.

“Seriously, Yann?”, Lucas glared, as his friend marched him back into the living room and pushed him on the couch, sitting down next to him.

“Yes, seriously. We need to talk,” Yann answered, immune to Lucas’ glares after years of friendship.

“What about?”, Lucas asked, playing dumb.

“You know what about, Lu.”

Lucas shook his head, not about to give in easily, even though he knew he didn’t stand a chance against Yann, when the latter was determined to get out the truth.

“You don’t find it strange that right when you get a boyfriend, Eliott disappears from the face of the earth?”

“What the fuck does Nicolas have to do with Eliott?”

He childishly emphasized Nicolas’ name.

“You tell me, Lucas. And don’t give me any bullshit. I know there’s some connection.”

“I have no clue. I haven’t spoken to Eliott in a month.”

Shit. As soon as the words left Lucas’ mouth, he knew it was a mistake.

“A month, you say? So we have you getting together with your new guy, and right when that happens, Eliott and you stop speaking, and Eliott goes AWOL? Coincidental much? The truth, now, Lucas.”

Lucas knew he should play mum. Yann would be upset and angry when he found out what Lucas and Eliott had been doing. He’d be upset that Lucas had kept it from him. But at the same time, Lucas really wanted to confess, to stop carrying this secret that threatened to overwhelm him. Eliott had ignored him for the past month, not answering Lucas’ texts, and it hurt. Lucas had believed – maybe foolishly, naively – that they could remain friends, even if they stopped their covert late-night visits, but it seemed Eliott was just not interested in that. It looked like he had decided that if he couldn’t fuck Lucas, he would not even go through the motions of a normal friendship. And to hammer the message home, he had even ditched their friends, as if to say there was nothing for him there.

Lucas felt so cheap, so used. He could feel the tears well up in his eyes, and he needed to talk to someone.

And who better to confide in, than Yann?

So Lucas just let it spill.

“We have been fucking each other.”

“Okay, Lu, but that’s fucking ages ago. I know he was your first and all, but –”

“Not back then. Not when we were together.”

“Huh? What? When, then?”

Lucas laughed humourlessly.

“At least once a week for the past three years.”

Yann opened his mouth, and closed it again. He looked like a goldfish, Lucas thought, and he’d have laughed at it, if his eyes weren’t filled with tears.

“Say something.”

“Fuck,” Yann finally gritted out. “Fuck, Lucas.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“Oh, shit, Lucas, why? How could you ever be so stupid?”

Lucas let out a small sob.

“I don’t know, Yann. The first time we were drunk, and it just happened, and we said it would be the last time, but then it happened again, and again, and it just became something we did, I suppose, and I kept telling myself I needed to end it, but it was just always so good, Yann, and it wasn’t like I was seeing anybody… But I ended it when I got together with Nicolas, and now… Now he doesn’t even want to talk to me. He was just keeping me around as an easy fuck, Yann. As soon as I said I wouldn’t do it anymore, he just threw me aside like a used toy.”

“Oh, Lu… I’m not sure that’s what’s going on here…”

“Then what is it, Yann? We were friends, all these years, all these times we hung out and went to parties and I took care of him when he was depressed and we helped him with his movies and all that shit, and as soon as I say he can’t get into my ass anymore he just disappears? What is going on, then, Yann, please tell me.”

“I don’t know… Maybe he’s hurt because you ended things? Maybe he thinks you don’t want to have anything to do with him anymore, now that you have Nicolas?”

“He is hurt?”

Lucas scoffed.

“He has been parading half of Paris in front of me. He doesn’t get to be hurt, Yann.”

“No,” Yann said pensively, “but that doesn’t mean he isn’t.”

*****

Eliott didn’t remember whose party they’d been at. It hadn’t been autumn yet, one of those last leisurely days in which they all tried to hang on to the feelings of freedom, although school had already started again after the long summer holiday. He’d been hanging out with Idriss and Sofiane, or with Lucas and his friends.

He still didn’t really understand how he had been adopted into the gang, other than that he didn’t really know anybody else at the lycée, and somehow Lucas had decided they should be friends, even after everything.

It had only made him all the more certain he had made the right decision, even though it still cut through him every time he heard Lucas laugh. He couldn’t have stayed with Lucas, no matter how much he wanted to. If he had, he’d have destroyed Lucas eventually. He already cheated on him – twice – once at that party, right after he’d told Lucas he had broken up with her – and then again, after Lucas and he had gotten back together in the school’s foyer, after their date on the houseboat, when Lucas had given everything to Eliott, committed to Eliott fully. It had happened during the worst manic episode he’d ever had, but that was no excuse. The cops had picked him up near the banks of the Seine, stripping to go for a swim, and they had called Lucille, who was still listed in his phone as his emergency contact. He’d blanked out completely when she had taken him home, and they’d had sex. And Lucas had forgiven him, again, but how could Eliott accept his forgiveness? He’d heard Lucille’s voice, saying he was not capable of real love. He’d heard his mother, trying to disguise her disappointment when he’d been too depressed to get out of his bed to take the exams for his bac. He’d heard his father, talking to police officers, school administrators, neighbours, trying to make amends for Eliott’s behaviour, paying the fines, the damages, trying to repair what Eliott had broken. He’d heard the cops writing up their reports while he was waiting for Lucille, calling him a public nuisance, as he sat there, crying, shivering, naked underneath their shiny thermal blanket. He’d heard Lucas – even though Lucas had apologized for it later – saying he didn’t need crazy people in his life. So yes – he couldn’t be with Lucas. Lucas was light and goodness, and Eliott was dark and destruction. Lucas didn’t belong in the dark. Eliott hadn’t joked, that one blissful morning in Lucas’ bed, when he had said he knew Lucas was afraid of the dark. Or maybe it was the dark who was afraid of Lucas. Either way, Eliott couldn’t drag Lucas into the dark with him. He’d done it once, and Lucas had followed willingly. He’d keep following, until Eliott broke him. So Eliott had to make sure Lucas didn’t follow anymore. He’d told him he didn’t want him anymore, that he’d chosen Lucille, that Lucas should forget about him. And Lucas obeyed, and let him go, and forgave him even for that, and decided to be his friend.

How could anybody ever believe that Lucas did not belong in the light? Lucas was the light itself.

Eliott had been too weak to refuse Lucas’ offer of friendship. He knew he could never have Lucas, if he wanted Lucas to be happy and loved the way he deserved to be. But he wasn’t strong enough to say no when Lucas called him over to their table during lunch break, determined not to make things awkward between them. And somehow, he’d either convinced or threatened the gang into playing nice, too, and even if certain subjects remained strictly taboo, they had found a way of being friends.

They had remained friends, even after Eliott had ended things with Lucille, finally, definitely, because the idea of kissing anybody but Lucas had been inconceivable, and nauseating, and just plain wrong.

They had remained friends even then, and Eliott had managed to keep it all to himself, all the simmering heat and want and desire, all the regret and guilt and shame, and how his heart tattooed a constant Lu-cas, Lu-cas, Lu-cas, Lu-cas against his ribs.

Until that party.

The one he barely remembers.

The one where he had found a bottle of vodka because looking at Lucas had hurt so much, he thought not feeling anything ever again would be better.

The one he would have forgotten, if the rest of the night had not been clearly etched in his mind, minute by excruciating minute, every little detail burned into his memory forever.

They’d all gotten way too drunk, lamenting the fact that they were back to deadlines and pop quizzes and boring classes, the gang dreading the bac at the end of the year more than they wanted to confess, and Eliott too scared of fucking it up in university to ever admit to the others. So when Basile had been taken home by an annoyed Daphné, and Yann and Arthur had left with a couple of girls who were probably even more drunk than they were, it had been just Eliott and Lucas, Eliott-and-Lucas, like they’d had been for those few miraculous weeks in spring, and they’d decided this was fine, they were mature enough to handle things, even though they’d not been alone among themselves for more than a couple of minutes since their night on the houseboat, before everything had gone south.

And Lucas had been so fucking gorgeous, laughing at every lame joke out of Eliott’s mouth. And then he’d started pointing out all the guys he thought might be gay and swearing up and down he’d find a boyfriend before graduation. And Eliott had felt the jealousy burn in his lungs, it threatened to consume him with every move of Lucas’ finger, with every syllable tumbling from Lucas’ lips, until he couldn’t breathe anymore, couldn’t stand to be even a centimeter away from Lucas, and he’d grabbed him roughly and kissed him with all the pent up passion of months of pining, months of self-denying, months of torture.

And Lucas had kissed him back, and bliss had flown like lava through his veins, and they’d stumbled to Eliott’s flat without letting go of each other’s mouths, and they’d fell into bed, and it had been like they’d never been apart, undressing each other with trembling fingers, which remembered all the ways the other needed to be touched.

Eliott had given everything he had to Lucas that night, his body, his heart, his soul, the very fabric of his existence, making Lucas scream his name like never before, demanding more, more, ever more, until they both were completely spent and the sunlight had crept through the curtains.

And for one perfect moment, Eliott had had Lucas in his arms, and he’d known he’d never be happy again without him.

But with the sunlight, the doubts had crept in, and they had sobered up enough to know that nothing between them had changed, and Lucas had gotten dressed, and he’d said it was okay, this was just a last hurrah, a farewell, a once and never again for old times’ sake, and they didn’t have to discuss it any further.

And Eliott had wanted to protest, had ached to hold Lucas with him, to beg him for another chance – until the dreadful truth had sunk in again: he’d had more chances with Lucas than anybody could ever expect, and he’d blown them all, and he’d hurt Lucas more than anybody should ever be hurt in a lifetime, and if he stayed, he’d only bring Lucas more pain. So he’d watched Lucas go as his heart shattered, and he’d told himself it was the last time he’d ever have to see him leave.

*****

“Hi, babe,” Lucas greeted Nicolas.

Nicolas grunted in reply, and didn’t acknowledge Lucas’ kiss.

“What’s up? Are you okay?”, Lucas asked worriedly.

“Ask your fucking ex,” Nicolas huffed.

“What? Who are you talking about?”

Nicolas gestured, and Lucas followed his movement. In the faraway corner, Eliott smirked at Lucas, raising his beer bottle in a sort of a salute.

Lucas felt chills running over his spine.

“Eliott? Nicolas, that was ages ago. We were still in high school, and it lasted only a few weeks, that’s all.”

“That’s not what he says,” Nicolas muttered darkly.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

What was Eliott doing? Did he tell Nicolas about their late-night rendez-vous? Why was he doing this?

“What?”, Lucas asked, hoping he misunderstood.

“You heard me.”

“Yes, but I don’t understand. What did he say, Nicolas?”

Nicolas finally looked Lucas in the eye.

“Are you sure you want me to tell you? Are you sure you don’t want to come clean? Confess that you have been banging him all this time, while you’ve been asking me to take things slow, telling me you aren’t ready to fuck yet?”

He slurred his words, and Lucas belatedly noted he was well on his way to well past drunk.

“That’s not true, Nicolas. I haven’t slept with him since you and I got together.”

Except for that one last time, Lucas thought guiltily. But he and Nicolas had only been on three dates then, and they hadn’t yet talked about what they were, so that didn’t count, did it?

“Not since we got together? That’s already a big difference with a few weeks while you were still in high school.”

Fuck.

“Okay, we may have fucked a few times after that. But not since I’ve been with you, Nicolas, I swear.”

“Whatever, Lucas. Let’s go home then and fuck. Now.”

“Nico… Baby, I thought we were taking things slow…”

“Not we, Lucas. You. You have been taking things slow. And now I know why.”

“What? Nico, what are you talking about?”

“Your stud over there told me. How he’s been fucking you so well that your ass is his. That I can never come close.”

What? Lucas looked over at Eliott again, who now looked at him with a dark, triumphant look in his eyes.

“He’s lying. He just doesn’t want me to be happy with someone else. He doesn’t own me, Nicolas.”

“Hah!”, Nicolas exclaimed, a dark, humourless tone in his voice. “Prove it. Take me home and prove to me you’re not hung up on him.”

“It’s not… Nicolas, I don’t want us to fuck just to prove anything to Eliott…”

“He said he was pretty sure you would scream his name. He told me he’d be impressed if I even ever managed to make you come, Lucas. How am I supposed to take that?”

God. Lucas ran a hand through his hair and bit on his lip. He was on the verge of tears.

“Nico… Baby… He’s trying to mess with us… He can’t stand that I’m happy with someone else…”

“Why would he even care, if all you ever did was date for a while years ago?”

Oh, God.

“I don’t know, baby… I haven’t been with anybody else, maybe he – he –”

Lucas had no idea how to finish his sentence without digging himself into an even deeper hole.

“Stop lying, Lucas. You’ve been fucking him all this time. You didn’t make him wait for months, did you, Lucas? You fucked him after what, half a date and two kisses?”

“That’s not how it went… Nico, can’t you see you’re giving him exactly what he wants? He wants us to break up. I don’t want him anymore, baby. I want to be with you.”

“As I said, Lucas, prove it.” Nicolas’ voice was cold, and hard. “Fuck me and scream my name. Tonight.”

“I… I need more time…”

“Tonight, or never, Lucas.”

Lucas sobbed freely now. He really wanted to make this work. Nicolas was the first person he’d felt he could maybe see himself with since Eliott, and he just needed a fair chance. Nicolas had been understanding when Lucas had told him he wanted to wait with sex a little bit. He had even thought it was ‘cute’ and ‘waiting would only make it better when it happened’, but recently he’d been insisting a bit more. Lucas supposed it was to be expected that his boyfriend would want to take that step after over two months of being together, and he was not planning on making him wait forever, it was just – it was hard to imagine fucking anybody else but Eliott.

Eliott, who’d been so gentle and caring their first time, so patient, so sweet and loving. Who’d checked in with Lucas, who’d made sure Lucas felt good. Eliott, who, every time they’d been together, took care of Lucas, made Lucas feel wanted and safe. Who knew his body like the back of his hand by now, who knew what Lucas liked, knew how to tease him, and how to make him explode in a mind-blowing orgasm.

How could anybody else ever match all that?

And what if Lucas wouldn’t be good for somebody else, his only experience being Eliott?

He just needed to take things slow… get used to sharing himself with somebody new, get ready to learn the lines and angles and smells and tastes of another body.

It would have to happen at some point.

Nicolas’ snort broke into Lucas’ chain of thoughts.

“I guess that’s a never. Bye, Lucas.”

“You’re breaking up with me? Over this? Over Eliott?”

“Not if you prove to me that he’s wrong.”

“I will! I’ll prove it to you! I’m with you, Nicolas, not with him… I… I really like you…”

“But not enough to fuck me.”

“I just need some more time… Please, Nicolas…”

“Fuck off, Lucas. Get back to your precious Eliott. You can go tell him he does indeed own your ass.”

“No… Please, don’t…”

“What the fuck, Eliott! What the fuck was that about? Why did you do that? You just can’t stand me being happy, can you? Have I ever tried to mess up anything with any of your fucking dates?”

“Nope, you haven’t,” Eliott replied matter-of-factly.

It threw Lucas off for a second, but he quickly regrouped.

“Then why did you ruin things between me and Nicolas?”

“Me dating others never came between us. He did.”

“What? What the fuck, Eliott?”

“What I said, Lucas. He took you away from me. I didn’t want that. So I did something about it.”

Lucas gasped, and stared at Eliott. He would have been less flabbergasted if Eliott suddenly had grown a third eye.

“What? Eliott, fuck… You fucked up a chance of an actual relationship for me because you want to keep fucking me?”

Eliott paused. His face softened, became more like the Eliott Lucas had known all this time – but Lucas steeled himself against it.

“Well, that’s not exactly it…”

“Fuck! Fuck, Eliott, what did I ever do to deserve this? Am I really just a piece of ass for you? I thought we were friends!”

Lucas suddenly saw red. Eliott had been using him all these years. He’d been fucking whoever he wanted, and when he didn’t feel like putting in the effort, he would call Lucas, and Lucas, stupid as he was, came without questions. It must have been so easy for Eliott. Sex whenever he wanted it, without any consequences. No need to go to a bar and pick up somebody, no need to figure out romantic dates, no need to get involved, nothing.

Shit, Lucas thought, he was fucking pathetic.

He wondered how Eliott must think about him – so fucking desperate for Eliott he’d accept to be his fucking plaything without even asking for decent treatment in return. He was practically a sex toy, nothing else.

He was livid, at Eliott, at Nicolas, at himself – at Eliott, for refusing to treat him with basic decency, at Nicolas, for not caring enough about Lucas beyond getting him in his bed. They were basically the same, Lucas thought, only interested in Lucas if he put out. What was it with him? Was that really all men ever saw in him? And he was infuriated with himself too – for letting both of them treat him like that. It hurt him, and, if he was honest, for some reason it hurt a lot more coming from Eliott, who he had known for all this time, who he had thought of as a friend, if nothing else, than from Nicolas, who he had only met a few months ago.

“Lucas, listen, I –”

“No. No, Eliott, I won’t listen to you. You used me like a cheap whore for years. Call me, get off, kick me out.”

“I never kicked you out!”, Eliott interrupted hotly. “You always wanted to leave. I didn’t treat you like a whore!”

Eliott looked upset, and even hurt. But he didn’t have the right to be upset, Lucas decided.

“Fuck, Eliott. Then what was it? I wasn’t good enough to be your boyfriend. I was only good enough to be your dirty little secret. You cheated on me, and when I wanted to try to make things work between us, you told me you chose Lucille. You didn’t want me, but I was good enough to fuck. All those years, that’s what I was to you, some twink you used instead of wanking. You dated everything with a beating pulse, but you never tried to work things out between us. And when I finally decide I deserve somebody who would maybe love me instead of somebody who just fucks me, literally and figuratively, you decide I can’t have that. I hate you, Eliott.”

Lucas knew Eliott, and he could pinpoint the feelings flashing through Eliott’s eyes – sadness, regret, guilt, pain, disbelief, and finally anger. Lucas focused on Eliott’s anger, and guilt. He deserved to feel guilty for the way he treated Lucas.

“Somebody who would love you, Lucas? That’s rich,” Eliott scoffed. “If that asshole loved you, he wouldn’t have left you, would he?”

“Fine,” Lucas conceded, done with the whole fucking situation. “Maybe he didn’t love me. Next time though, maybe don’t chase them away before they can get there, will you.”

“As if anybody could ever love you like I –”

“What? What, Eliott? Are you seriously saying nobody could ever love me?”

“No! No, Lucas, that’s not what I –”

“I don’t even know you anymore, Eliott.”

“You interrupted me! I wasn’t finished! Everybody would love you, Lucas, anybody with half a functioning brain cell would, and I –”

“I guess you are the one exception then, right? I don’t want to see you anymore, Eliott. Stay away from me and from my relationships.”

“Lucas, just… God, listen to me, please, I –”

Lucas didn’t listen, however. He turned on his heels, blocking out whatever Eliott was trying to say, running from the club, running all the way home, running until he fell into his bed, exhausted and heartbroken.

He didn’t understand why it hurt so much that Eliott didn’t think Lucas could be worthy of love. It was one thing to know that Eliott couldn’t love him. He had felt shock and grief over that back in high school, when Eliott broke up with him. It had hurt really bad, and in a way, Lucas thought it would always hurt, but he had found a way to live with it. But to learn that Eliott thought nobody would ever love Lucas, that was a whole other level. They had been friends for so long. They had managed to be cordial whenever they hung out. They had had a lot of fun together with the gang. Had it all been a lie?

Then again, he supposed it should not have come as a surprise. He’d been played, and he hadn’t even put up much resistance. No wonder Eliott had no respect for him. And maybe it was true, too. It seemed like Nicolas had also seen Lucas as just an easy fuck, not as a person he could love.

Was Lucas really just that? Was he really that naïve? Had Nicolas really never had any feelings for him? At least Eliott had felt something more at one point, even if it hadn’t been enough.

Lucas tried to call Nicolas, but the latter had blocked his number. He felt anguish, and sorrow, and something that felt like relief, but that couldn’t have been it, could it?

Then he slowly, deliberately, blocked Eliott’s number.

There definitely was no relief in that.

*****

Lucas would never forgive him.

And that was what he had wanted, wasn’t it?

For Lucas to keep away from him, keep away from the darkness inside Eliott, keep away from Eliott before Eliott snubbed out Lucas’ light.

Eliott had never wanted to pull Lucas into the labyrinth of darkness he had lived in his entire life. Lucas should not be confined to the maze, forced to look for an exit all the time, yet never find it. Lucas belonged to the outside. Lucas should not be locked up with Eliott in a place where love would never find him.

And Eliott had to drive Lucas away as far as he could.

He had almost crumbled, had almost confessed everything to Lucas – but Lucas had stopped him just in time. He had refused to listen to Eliott, preferring to hold on to the pain and the anger instead.

It was a good thing.

Lucas had forgiven him way too often already. This time, he needed to make sure Lucas would never want to be with him ever again.

Eliott knew he wasn’t strong enough to stay away from Lucas, so he had to make sure Lucas would stay away from Eliott.

He knew, though. If he was honest with himself, he knew that was not why he had done it.

All his dearly sworn oaths of being happy for Lucas had flown out of the window when he had heard the fucking prick who Lucas was dating – he saw no point in learning the guy’s name – brag about Lucas. He just couldn’t stand it. The image of that asshole putting his hands, his mouth, on Lucas’ body made him nauseous. Before he could stop himself, he had started talking to the dude, telling him Lucas was his ex. He had not too subtly referenced the sexual part of their relationship. It had been mean and petty, and he should have stopped there, but the bastard had been infuriating. First, the guy had acted like Eliott was lying. Then, when Eliott had started listing the moles on Lucas’ back, he had laughed condescendingly and said there must be a reason why Lucas had gone searching for somebody else. And then the asshole had started elaborating how he would show Lucas what a good fuck really was. And that’s when Eliott had decided the dude was not right for Lucas.

Still. He was ashamed of how vicious he had been. And he hadn’t thought the guy would actually break up with Lucas. The fact that he did, however, showed that Eliott had been right – the prick wouldn’t have treated Lucas the way the latter deserved. Lucas shouldn’t be with somebody who was only interested in fucking him – and yes, Eliott was aware that his actions of the last years were not one iota better, and that his behaviour had served to take himself right out of the picture too. He wasn’t a complete hypocrite. 

At least he had never thought of Lucas as just a quick fuck, an easy lay, even though he had treated him in that way. Even though Lucas was convinced that was all it had ever been to Eliott.

It had never been just sex to Eliott.

He remembered how he had tried to woo Lucas all those years ago, by taking him to a houseboat on the Seine, and shouting out to the whole city and everybody who wanted to hear it how whipped he was for Lucas. Lucas had been adorable, a mixture of shy, impressed, and happy, and above all so fucking cute.

That night was the last time Eliott had been truly happy.

He had spent it in Lucas’ arms, naked, high, drunk on love.

He had etched each second in his brain. Every sigh out of Lucas’ mouth, every press of his lips on Eliott’s skin, every time he had smiled wide enough to show two rows of perfect teeth – the same teeth that had dug into Eliott’s shoulder when the latter had sunk into Lucas for the first time.

They’d spent almost 24 hours on that boat, and they had barely left the bed once they had gotten into it. They explored every centimeter of each other. Lucas had begged for more, even though Eliott had known he must be sore, and he had given in. Lucas had gone from shy and unsure to fiery, feisty, and passionate, not afraid to make demands, to voice out his wants and desires, to be vocal about his pleasure. It had mesmerized Eliott at the time, that he was the only one who knew this side of Lucas. It had been hypnotizing, every time he kissed Lucas, to think he’d have this stunning boy in his bed for the rest of his life.

There hadn’t been a single cell in his body that hadn’t been addicted to Lucas. He was high on Lucas, stupefied by the fact that Lucas was his.

And nothing could have prepared him that day for the inevitable fall, only a few days later, when he sent Lucas away.

Lucas had tried so valiantly to keep in the tears, as he had stood there at the bus stop where they had first talked to each other, listening to Eliott’s lies about how he chose Lucille. He’d looked so small, in his grey Romance sweater, the one Eliott loved so much, so unlike the boisterous, bold boy from the boat.

It had been the hardest thing he’d ever done in his life, to send Lucas away. He had stood there watching him leave, feeling as if his heart was being ripped out of his chest.

It had been the first time he had had to do it. He had not known then it was not to be the last time. And every time, the feeling was the same.

But he took it. It was the punishment for his sins, to have Lucas leave him time and time again.

*****

Lucas had been taking advantage of the end of the term to go out almost every night. He flirted with every guy who seemed even remotely interested, made out against walls and in bathroom stalls, even brought a date over to video game night – twice in a row, both times a different guy. The first time Eliott had been there, and Lucas had taken a diabolic pleasure in making out with – he’d forgotten his name – all evening, moaning and breathing heavily, until the boys had been too embarrassed to keep looking at them and had left. Yann had kicked Lucas and his date out, and Lucas had let go of what’s-his-name as soon as they were outside, and had almost vomited right there and then. Name-unknown had not taken kindly to that and had hightailed it, to Lucas’ relief. He thought he might have been in trouble if he’d tried to tell Mr. Anonymous he wasn’t in the mood to fuck after that filthy display he’d put on.

But what would have been even worse was to let Eliott find out he just couldn’t do it. Eliott did indeed, as he had so eloquently phrased it to Nicolas, own Lucas’ ass, Lucas thought bitterly. No matter how often he disappeared into the bathroom with an eager guy and half a bottle of liquid courage inside him, he couldn’t do it. As soon as hands starting wandering into pants, everything inside Lucas revolted. It were the wrong hands, they didn’t know how to touch Lucas, they felt all wrong on his hips, they burnt his skin.

He wished Eliott had never come to their school. He wished Daphné had never conjured up the idea of the foyer. He wished he wouldn’t have forgiven Eliott so easily that day when they had painted that damn mural. He wished he hadn’t gone with Eliott to that fucking boat. He wished so many things, but they all came down to one thing: he wished he’d never started dating Eliott.

But he knew wishes were fruitless, and he knew that once he’d laid eyes on Eliott he’d been lost. He had fallen in love right there and then, even though he had been too afraid to admit it, even to himself.

He had never spoken the words out loud. Not to Eliott, nor had he told anybody else. Everybody thought it had been a wild, short fling, and when Lucas and Eliott had quickly and seemingly easily settled into friendship afterwards, most people had assumed there hadn’t been feelings involved on either side. Yann knew better, and Manon, and Mika – but for the rest of the world, it had just been a short-lived affair, a crush, an infatuation that had burned bright but fast and had left nothing behind.

Only Lucas knew what it had left behind.

Utter devastation, ashes, and a scorched heart, loneliness, and aching grief for what he lost.

And now he was waging total warfare against that feeling.

He didn’t care how many guys he had to hook up with, or how many bottles of vodka he had to get in him before he could actually let somebody in his pants. He was going to cut out all lingering memories of Eliott. He would rip off his skin, if he needed to.

He raised his glass. A bitter taste filled his mouth. Fitting, he thought. It burnt his tongue. It was for the better – that way he wouldn’t taste that the guy he was about to disappear with was not Eliott. Another swig. The alcohol flowed through his veins.

Eliott was watching him from the other side of the room. Everywhere Lucas went, Eliott showed up sooner or later. They didn’t talk, didn’t greet each other. Eliott just observed, as Lucas drank himself into a stupor, ground against whichever guy was willing, and vanished with another nameless, faceless body after a while.

If Lucas was behaving like a slut – not in the least when Eliott was nearby – Eliott had changed into a monk. He had not dated anybody in months, as far as anybody knew.

Lucas pretended he didn’t know, or at the very least didn’t care.

Nobody needed to know that he wondered why Eliott had suddenly stopped bringing somebody home every other night. He would have assumed, before this whole mess unfolded, that if Lucas was no longer available, Eliott would only be sleeping around even more than before.

He didn’t want to dwell on those thoughts. They didn’t add up. They made no sense.

He didn’t want to feel Eliott’s eyes burning into him.

He raised his glass into a mock salute to Eliott. It was the first time he even acknowledged the other boy was here, and he regretted it immediately. He finished the rest of his drink and went out to the dancefloor, ready to find a body he could use to forget all about Eliott.

Through his drunken haze, the irony of the situation was not lost on him. He had complained about Eliott using him for all those years, and yet here he was, using all these unsuspecting guys in much the same way.

But he had to do it. There had to be someone who could make him forget Eliott.

Some blonde dude was making eyes at him. Lucas didn’t even think twice. He got another drink – he didn’t care what, as long as it was strong – and went over to dance next to Blondie.

It didn’t take Blondie long to suggest taking the party to somewhere more private. Lucas felt the by now familiar unease and dread rise up in his throat, but he ignored it when he caught Eliott still leaning against the bar from the corner of his eye. He nodded towards Blondie and emptied his glass.

Blondie grabbed his wrist a bit too hard for Lucas’ liking, but he followed him towards the alley behind the club anyway.

Before he even realized what was going on, Blondie had pressed him against the wall and tried to push his tongue into Lucas’ mouth.

Lucas couldn’t say it wasn’t the usual programme, but everything seemed to move quite a bit faster than he had anticipated.

He tried to slow Blondie down somewhat, but the latter wasn’t having any of it, so Lucas decided to just go along. He opened his mouth and tasted cheap alcohol and cheap cigarettes.

Eliott tasted of cigarettes too, his brain provided, unbidden. He tried to push the memories away, but Eliott’s face kept appearing in his head. Maybe it wasn’t bad – if he pretended Blondie was Eliott, maybe he wouldn’t freeze up this time.

Blondie kept mauling him, and every resemblance with Eliott vanished. This guy was kissing without any finesse, without any feeling. He slobbered all over Lucas’ face, and it made Lucas want to crawl out of his skin.

He had had enough.

This wasn’t gonna work.

He started to despair it was ever gonna work.

Maybe he was doomed to stay alone and celibate for the rest of his life. Three years of great sex with Eliott, and then the great nothing. It seemed fitting.

Blondie hadn’t caught on to the fact that Lucas had checked out. His hands moved down over Lucas’ chest and started to fumble with Lucas’ zipper.

Lucas tried to push against the guy, without much success.

“Hey,” he said, astonished by how slurred he sounded. He was way more drunk then he had estimated.

“Hey,” he attempted again. “Hey, stop. We can’t do that here.”

Blondie looked at him with bloodshot eyes, not moving his hands.

“Let’s go to your place, then,” he hissed. Lucas presumed he was going for seductive, but it grated Lucas’ nerves, like fingernails on a chalkboard.

“Sorry, I think I need to go,” he said, pushing against the guy’s chest again. The guy took a wobbly step back.

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” Lucas repeated. “I’m too drunk to do this. I need to go.”

Blondie’s eyes narrowed.

“You fucking asshole,” he said, louder. “You fucking tease. Turning me on with your ass on my dick like that, and then bailing on me? I don’t think that’s good manners, do you?”

Lucas shrugged. If he had been sober, he might have been afraid, but in his current state, he simply decided he didn’t give a shit.

“I said I was sorry.”

He started walking away.

Blondie yelled some obscenities, but didn’t try to stop Lucas.

Precisely at that moment, Eliott appeared. He looked like thunder, and his eyes flitted from Lucas to Blondie, who had moved his hand to his own crotch, and back to Lucas.

“What the fuck, Lucas? Are you going down on strangers in alleys now?”

Lucas merely stared.

“What is it to you, Demaury?”

Blondie leered.

“He didn’t go down on me. Are you offering?”

If eyes could kill, Blondie would have met his untimely demise right there and then. Instead, Eliott grabbed Lucas by the arm and pulled him out of the alley.

“What the fuck do you think you are doing? You can’t just go anywhere with guys like that, Lucas!”

“I can do whatever the fuck I want, Demaury. You don’t own me.”

Eliott slid his hand through his hair in a desperate, defeated move.

“You are better than fucking some ugly dude against the wall, Lucas.”

Lucas stared at Eliott. They had definitely done it against more than one wall, he thought. But Eliott wasn’t ugly. And Eliott knew how to kiss properly.

“Is there something wrong with your ears? I didn’t do anything with him. What’s the problem, Eliott? Jealous? No need, he was happy to let you do him, didn’t you hear him?”

“It is dangerous, Lucas! What would you have done if he had forced you?”

“I’m not some damsel in distress you need to rescue, Eliott. Maybe your knight in shining armour spiel works on other people, but I can take care of myself. I don’t need you.”

“You have made that much clear, yes,” Eliott muttered darkly.

Lucas didn’t understand what was going on. His befuddled brain was too slow to keep track of the conversation, and Eliott’s proximity didn’t help.

Suddenly, all he wanted was to go home and sleep.

The world started spinning, and he felt unsteady on his legs.

“Listen, Eliott, just leave me alone. You’ve ruined things with Nicolas, so it’s your fault I have to pick up drunk guys at clubs and follow them into trashy alleys for some shitty make out sessions. So I would appreciate it if you let me wallow in my misery all by myself.”

“Lucas, you don’t have to follow the first the best drunk bastard who comes along –” 

“What, Eliott? Did you think just because you don’t want me, nobody does? Well, fuck you, Eliott, newsflash, plenty of guys want me. Even if it’s just to fuck me against the wall, it’s still more than you want, right? Now fuck off, I want to go home.”

He took a few unstable steps, before he felt the nausea rise. The alcohol, the unpleasant pawing from Blondie, the confrontation with Eliott, everything became one big lump in his stomach, and without warning, he bent over and starting vomiting.

In a flash, Eliott was there, holding Lucas, mumbling into his hair. Lucas didn’t grasp what Eliott was saying.

“I just want to go home, Eliott,” he whispered, struggling against the tears he felt welling up. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“I’ve got you, Lucas,” Eliott replied, so softly and tenderly. Lucas felt his heart constrict in his chest.

If only Eliott would love him.

The wayward thought struck him like a whip.

If only Eliott would love him… the way he loved Eliott.

God, he was so stupid.

It was never going to work with anybody else, because he still loved Eliott, had never stopped loving Eliott, would never stop loving Eliott.

And as Eliott held him while they slowly made their way to Lucas’ apartment, it was all he could think of, and it took all his willpower and a tremendous effort not to say it out loud: Why couldn’t Eliott just love him?

*****

Eliott had painted a naked Lucas, exploding in a myriad of colours, and his professor had started rambling about the symbolism of all the hues on the skin of the boy. Eliott had simply nodded and remained stoic, because what he had put on the canvas was not full of deeper meaning and abstract metaphors, but rather just exactly what he had laid eyes on, that first time. Years after that day, the image was still seared into Eliott’s brain: Lucas, every centimeter of his skin covered in paint which Eliott had put there, his lips kiss-swollen, his eyes darker than ever in the dim room, the blue a stark contrast against the green and purple and orange on Lucas’ face, drawing Eliott in forcefully.

For years he’d dreamt about that magical night – before everything had come crashing down, before Eliott had ruined the only good thing in his life, before he’d lost Lucas forever.

He still didn’t fully understand what had happened that night, even though he had dreamed about it a million times, both asleep and awake.

He had come prepared to beg. He’d do anything to have Lucas forgive him.

He’d been fantasizing about Lucas since he’d first laid eyes on him, and after their glorious night in the rain, their sun-filled morning in Lucas’ bed, the fantasies had only gotten more persistent, playing on loop in his head, non-stop.

He’d relived how they had run to La Petite Ceinture, how he had wanted so badly to kiss Lucas in the dark, but how he had been too afraid of the consequences.

How Lucas had looked at him, as he stood there in the rain, his eyes reflecting the moonlight.

How he had smiled slightly, and how he had stepped forward to Eliott, trembling with nerves but so damn determined at the same time.

How he had held out his hands, getting drenched, how in an instant Eliott had realized Lucas knew about Polaris, how Eliott’s heart had stopped beating until they had touched, and how they had kissed as if nobody else existed in the whole wide world. How Eliott had laughed in the rain, holding this miracle of a boy in his arms, the raindrops dripping from his eyelashes. How they had fallen into bed, hours later, when the sun was struggling to come out behind the heavy clouds, still damp, exhausted from all the emotion. And how they had fought off that exhaustion, not wanting to sleep when they were near each other, preferring to kiss each other’s body wherever their mouths could reach, trace uncertain fingers over warm skin, talk about how they had met and where they wanted to go from here.

And how Lucas had fallen asleep, finally, how Eliott had stared at him, so peaceful and small between the white sheets, so beautiful. How Eliott had known he needed to go, do this the right way, break up with Lucille before he couldn’t handle himself any longer and let himself have Lucas completely, the way he had wanted to since the start.

And then – he’d let Lucas see him kiss Lucille, on purpose. Wanting to chase Lucas away, and yet – wishing he’d stay. Not knowing how to ask Lucas to take on the burden that was Eliott, not finding the words to explain, not ready to take Lucas’ unavoidable rejection.

And Lucas had been angry and hurt, as Eliott had intended, and Eliott should have been happy. But then he had taken another turn in the maze of his jumbled emotions, and he had changed his mind, and he’d been prepared to beg, to plead, to offer Lucas his heart and put it at his feet where it belonged. 

But Lucas hadn’t needed anything more than the honest truth – “Ever since I saw you, you are the only one who’s mattered”. Eliott had seen it in his big, blue eyes – the unwavering trust Lucas had in him, even after what he’d done. The certainty Eliott would not hurt him or lead him astray. And it was that confidence radiating from Lucas that had made Eliott pause again, knowing he had done wrong by Lucas, and would do so again, inevitably, at some point. In the end, it had been Lucas, once again, who’d decided for him, and kissed Eliott with a pent-up passion that burned brightly between them. It had tugged at their clothes, uncaring they were covered in paint, in a public place – all mere fuel to the fire, until they couldn’t contain the flames any longer.

Eliott had given in to his desire there and then, worshipped Lucas the way he deserved to, sunk down on his knees until everything exploded in a burst of colour that could rival the stars.

He should have known then, that he’d never be able to get Lucas out of his system. One taste – and he was hooked, craved it again and again and again, and no substitute ever came close.

But he hadn’t realized that back then. He’d been deliriously happy, but he had reasoned it was because he had been forgiven by Lucas, because he had had a mind-blowing orgasm against Lucas’ naked body, slippery with paint, because he had made Lucas yell Eliott’s name as he came into Eliott’s mouth.

He hadn’t figured out that the reason his world had just tilted on its axis was not sex, but love. He’d given his heart to Lucas in that foyer, and he’d never even tried to get it back.

Looking back, maybe that had been the only time there had truly stood nothing in between them. The only time they had been in love, without pretense and secrets trying to tear them apart.

It had also been the only time, Eliott realized, that their goodbye hadn’t been fraught with ambiguity and a hint of sadness tinging the memory of their time together. It was the only time he’d watched Lucas leave without fearing it would have been the last time.

*****

Another Friday night, another date with the gang at Yann’s place, Lucas thought. Another torturous couple of hours in the same room with Eliott, ignoring him completely. He’d really reached the ultimate level of snubbing, he thought, tired of it all. Refusing to play a round against Eliott was standard issue by now, and the boys didn’t even ask anymore – which was a small blessing, because it meant Lucas didn’t have to pretend not to notice the hurt in Eliott’s eyes every time Lucas said no, flatly but decidedly. He had also not acknowledged Eliott’s presence for weeks – no greeting when he came in, no answer when he said something, not accepting the piece of pizza Eliott tried to pass him. It gave a whole new spin on ghosting, hah. He treated Eliott as a ghost – invisible, inaudible, untouchable, barely even there. Tonight, he’d been driving things to the point of no return. He’d gone to the kitchen to get drinks – only to emerge with four glasses, pointedly ignoring Eliott. Yann had been angry, and had started to call Lucas out on it, but Eliott had just stood up and gotten his own drink. It hadn’t been enough. Lucas wanted Eliott to get angry, to get upset, to start crying – anything. Lucas wanted Eliott to feel the same hurt Lucas did. So when he had ordered the pizza, he had omitted Eliott’s order. This time, it was Basile – kind, good-hearted Basile, who always made a point of seeing the best in everybody – who had called Lucas a bastard, and Arthur had claimed that maybe Lucas should stay away if he was only going to ruin everything for everybody, and it had again been Eliott who’d murmured something about not being hungry anyway, no big deal, guys. Deep inside, Lucas knew he was petty and mean and only hurting himself, but he couldn’t find it in him to stop. It had been Eliott who had ruined everything, not Lucas.

He knew it was bound to implode in his face at some point – and it did, when Yann said he couldn’t host next Friday, because he was going out with his parents for his mom’s birthday. Their usual fall back place was Lucas’, so when all eyes turned towards him, he shrugged.

“Sure,” he said. “The two of you can come over.”

He didn’t even look at Eliott as he spoke. Invisible, right?

The silence was deafening.

Until Basile spoke.

“Actually, you know what, Arthur, Eliott, you can come over to my place. You were right, Arthur, maybe we should do this without Lucas in the future.”

Lucas choked on his drink. What? These were _his_ friends, before they had been Eliott’s. Why were they picking Eliot’s side? He looked at Yann, certain to find some support there, but Yann just narrowed his eyes and hummed at Basile.

And then Eliott, fucking Eliott, had to behave like a fucking martyr or something, and started saying it was okay, he would stay away, he didn’t want to cause any problems, and the others all interrupted him and kept saying it wasn’t his fault. And that’s when Lucas decided he had had enough.

“Oh, so it’s all my fault, is it? Your new fucking best friend here can break up my relationship, but that’s okay, is it? I just have to accept that, right?”

Yann sighed, and Eliott looked like he really wanted to be invisible now.

“What?”, Arthur asked, confused.

“Oh, did he not tell you about that? About how he is allowed to fuck half of Paris, but then got so fucking jealous when I found someone that he needed to ruin it?”

“Lucas, please,” Eliott said, sounding almost like he was crying – and wasn’t that was Lucas had wanted all along? Then why did it not feel satisfying at all? Lucas paid him no attention, Eliott was inaudible, and besides, why would he cry when Lucas recounted his biggest victory?

“He didn’t tell you guys how he told Nicolas that I would scream Eliott’s name while Nicolas fucked me? Huh? He forgot to tell you guys that, did he?”

Yann tried to shush him, but Lucas was on a roll now.

“And about how he said to my face nobody could ever love me, did he tell you guys that, when you all decided to take his side over your fucking friend?”

Eliott made a small sound, as if to protest, but Lucas glared at him – the first time he’d looked at Eliott all night, really – and Eliott shut his mouth.

“We didn’t know that, Lucas,” Arthur said cautiously.

“But even so, Eliott is our friend too,” Basile added, because he obviously had a death wish.

“Is that so, Baz?”, Lucas yelled, tears welling up in his eyes. “Well, then, have fun with your friend, because it is him or me. He fucked up everything, he used me for years, he couldn’t accept that I might ever fuck anybody else even though he has had somebody new every week for years, and I can’t stand to be in a room with him ever again!”

“Okay,” said Yann, strangely calm. “This is enough. If you really can’t stand to be in a room with him, then you’re out of luck, Lucas, because this is ending now. You guys are either gonna solve this or kill each other, I don’t care. We will be in the hallway until you do.”

He stood up, and for once, even Basile immediately grasped the plan, because before Lucas even had the time to protest, the door of Yann’s flat slammed close and he was left alone with Eliott.

It became silent once more. The only sound in the flat was Lucas’ heavy breathing. He still didn’t look at Eliott. Eliott didn’t exist. He didn’t care how long he had to sit here. At some point, Yann would have to come back in. Lucas could wait.

But of course, Eliott had other plans.

“Lucas?”, he said, gingerly.

“No! I don’t want to see you, I don’t want to talk to you, I want you out of my life!”

Eliott had the audacity to chuckle, and Lucas glared at him again, before he remembered Eliott was invisible.

“Then you’ll have to kill me, as per Yann’s orders.”

Lucas scoffed despite himself.

“Yann said to kill each other.”

“Well, I have no intention of killing you, so we’ll have to go for the other option then.”

Eliott sounded strange, and Lucas glanced over again. There were tears in his eyes. Huh. Lucas didn’t understand why Eliott would be crying.

His first instinct was to go to Eliott and wrap his arms around him, as he had done so many times before, when Eliott had been depressed. But they were no longer friends. Eliott had broken their friendship, just like he had thrown away their relationship years ago.

Lucas swallowed. He did not want to cry, didn’t want to let Eliott on to his feelings.

“Lucas…”, Eliott tried, and Lucas was tempted to put his fingers in his ears, but that would be too spiteful, even for him.

“Lucas, will you please listen to me? I want to apologize, tell you why I did what I did…”

God. Did he really think an apology was going to make everything better? Did he think an explanation was going to heal years of hurting, years of Lucas loving somebody who didn’t love him back, years of fucked up codependency that was never meant to last?

“Please, Lucas. We have to talk, or Yann won’t let us out.”

Talking would only hurt more. It was what it was, and they didn’t have to do a post mortem on the situation to know they couldn’t really be in each other’s lives anymore.

Lucas sighed, exhausted.

“It’s okay. We both know we can’t do this anymore. I’ll tell Yann I won’t come to game night anymore, and he can make sure we are not going to the same events, or whatever. I’ll let the girls know they cannot invite both of us. I don’t mind if they pick you. You heard the boys, they think I’m ruining everything anyway. I don’t care anymore, Eliott. Just… let go. We don’t have to pretend anything anymore.”

Eliott remained silent, and after a long pause, Lucas looked over in his direction.

“I don’t want to take away your friends,” he said, finally. “I can tell them I’ll just stay away. We don’t have to make a whole big deal out of it.”

Lucas scoffed.

“They are your friends too. And besides, the whole group is connected. I mean, what about Imane and Idriss and Sofiane? We will have to tell them something. They need to know we cannot be in the same room any longer. And I don’t want to force them to pick sides or whatever. Everybody already thinks I’m being a fucking bitch to you, it’s easier if I just leave.”

Eliott sounded small when he replied.

“So that’s really what you want? Break up with all your friends, rather than try to work this out? Rather than listen to me?”

Lucas felt everything inside him explode.

“Fuck, Eliott, of course not! I don’t want to lose all my friends, but you have said enough! What do you think you can say that would make any of this even a fraction better? You refused to try to work things out years ago! I wasn’t important enough to work things out back then, why would it be any different now? You used me, you threw me away like trash, you broke up my relationship, you ruined my life. I can handle you ruining my friendships too, but I can’t handle having to see you all the fucking time. God, I wish we had never even met!”

He hated the treacherous tears in his eyes, and he tried to wipe them away, but they fell faster than he could keep up with, and he gave in, crying openly now. To hell with what Eliott thought.

Suddenly, he heard Eliott standing up and kneeling in front of him.

“I don’t. I regret a lot of things, but I’ll never regret meeting you, Lucas. I did everything wrong, and it doesn’t matter that I thought I was protecting you, I’ll never forgive myself for hurting you. But I’ll never regret loving you.”

Lucas lifted his head slowly, looking Eliott straight in the eyes.

“What?”

“I need to apologize for so many things, Lucas, and I want to if you’ll only just listen –”

“What did you say?”

“What are you talking about? I said I’m sorry for ruining everything for you, but I –”

“Not that. What did you say?”

Eliott took a breath, and he made a move, as if to touch Lucas, but he aborted it quickly and pulled on his lip. Lucas had always found that small sign of nerves endearing, and it set loose a whole troupe of butterflies inside him now.

“I’ll never regret loving you. Is that what you mean?”

“But – but you never – when did you love me?”

Lucas stared at Eliott as is his life depended on the answer. The tears had stopped flowing, and he thought his heart might stop beating. Eliott had loved him?

“When did I love you?”

Eliott started laughing, a strange, restrained, humourless laugh.

“Oh, god, Lucas. When did I _not_ love you? I loved you since I saw you that first day in the hallway at school, and I have never stopped.”

The silence engulfed them. They could hear the boys murmuring outside the door.

“I loved you when we met, I loved you every day since, I love you today. I probably will love you for the rest of my life, Lucas, and it’s honestly the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Lucas didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry, whether to hit Eliott or to kiss him, so he did nothing. He just sat there, motionless, gaping at Eliott.

“Lucas?”

Eliott’s voice shook him out of his trance.

“But – you never said anything.”

Eliott got up from the floor and sat down next to Lucas.

“God, I was so stupid, Lucas. I just – I thought I’d be bad for you – I thought I couldn’t burden you to be with me –”

“But you thought it was okay to sleep with me all these years, letting me think that was all I was to you?”

“No… I don’t know… I just… I thought it didn’t mean all that much to you. I thought for you it was just sex. And I just wanted you however I could have you, Lucas.”

Lucas shook his head repeatedly, not understanding.

“You thought it was just sex to me?”

Eliott bowed his head, looked at his hands, clasped together in his lap.

“You never stayed… As soon as we were done, you left…”

Lucas felt nauseous. Should he have made his feelings clear? But Eliott was the one who had said he didn’t want to be with Lucas…

“I couldn’t stay, Eliott… If I stayed, I would have wanted more, and you made it clear you didn’t want to be my boyfriend.”

“I lied. I always wanted to be your boyfriend. But I hurt you so often, I thought it was just a question of time before you’d start hating me. It was always just you, Lucas.”

“But all those people you dated then?”

“Why do you think it never worked out? They weren’t you. None of them mattered. Since I met you, you’re the only one who mattered. I told you that before, Lucas… It just always felt so wrong, to kiss anybody else.”

Lucas smirked ruefully.

“I know. All those guys? It felt dirty and ghastly to touch them. Not like with you.”

“I broke you up with Nicolas because I was so jealous. I knew I couldn’t be with you, but I didn’t want anybody else to, either. It hurt so much, to see you hook up with all these random guys.”

Lucas decided to go for honesty.

“It hurt me too, when you dated all those other people.”

Eliott opened his mouth to say something, then seemed to think better of it, then tried again.

“Lucas… Does that mean – I thought I didn’t mean anything to you anymore after we broke up… After we slept together after that party, you said it was just something that happened, it didn’t mean anything…”

“I thought that was what you wanted… You had said you didn’t want to be with me… I didn’t want you to feel like just because we had sex, I would try to get back together with you. I thought you wouldn’t want that.”

Eliott let out a shaky breath.

“I did want that, but I probably would have pushed you away again. I’m not good for you, Lucas. I never was.”

“What are you saying, Eliott? You just told me you love me.”

“I do, but Lucas, don’t you see? I’ve done nothing but hurt you, ever since we met.”

“Yeah, because you’re a fucking idiot! Why are you trying to make decisions for me, anyway? Why are you giving up even before we tried? It’s like you have no confidence in me at all.”

“Lucas… I do, I trust you with my life. But how can you ever trust me? I cheated on you. Twice.”

“Okay, yes, you did. Once when we weren’t even really together and once when you were manic. Don’t get me wrong, it was not right, and it shouldn’t have happened, but I understand how and why it did, and I forgave you a long time ago.”

“I’ve never cheated on you since then, though,” Eliott said haltingly.

“What? We weren’t together, so you couldn’t have cheated on me.”

“I mean… I haven’t slept with anybody but you since Lucille.”

Lucas was sure he was hallucinating.

“What? But… And all those other people then?”

Eliott shrugged helplessly.

“I already told you, it always felt wrong. Why did you think I always talked about you when Basile asked me how my sex life was going?”

He looked at Lucas sheepishly, the vulnerability in his voice clear.

“Holy fuck.”

“Yeah.”

Lucas laughed. It was stilted and weird, but it felt like things might get better.

“So what do we do now, then?”, Lucas asked, when he realized they hadn’t reached any conclusion. Eliott told him he loved him, but he also kept repeating he didn’t think they should be together. His heart beat against his ribs as he waited.

“Lucas… I thought I could protect you from myself if I wasn’t with you. I thought I wouldn’t hurt you if we weren’t together.”

Lucas did not like where this was going.

“Yeah, and you hurt me like hell by that stupid decision, you idiot. So can we cut out the pain and just be together now?”

Eliott stared at him, uncertainty all over his pretty face.

“You – you really want that?”

“Fuck, Eliott. I have been fucking in love with you for almost four years. I’d say it’s about time.”

He stared at Eliott. Eliott stared at him. They leaned into each other, slowly but deliberately.

Then they heard the front door open. Footsteps announced the boys entered the flat.

“Eh, guys?”, Yann asked timidly. “You didn’t really kill each other, did you? We got worried. It is way too silent in here.”

One by one, they cautiously came into the living room.

Lucas suddenly felt very exposed. He needed to continue this talk with Eliott far away from prying eyes and ears. They had years’ worth of issues to work through. It was gonna take a while. Secretly he thought they might make better progress if they could touch each other, too. But that wasn’t going to happen here in Yann’s living room with the boys watching their every move.

“Lucas? Eliott?”, Arthur inquired, when neither of them reacted.

“Are you good?”, Basile added hopefully.

“Uh… I think?”

Lucas looked at Eliott, unsure about how to continue.

Eliott nodded, but didn’t speak.

The boys looked from one to the other, obviously noting their red eyes, the tracks of tears on their faces.

“Are you going to be able to be in the same room like normal people again?”, Yann asked. Lucas thought he saw a small grin on his face. Bless Yann, he thought. He would call Yann later, tell him everything as soon as he and Eliott had figured it all out. Then again, Yann probably had put everything together a whole lot sooner than either one of them.

“I think we might be,” Lucas declared, looking at Eliott, “but not in this room, at this very moment. We need to talk, and we need privacy. Let’s go to your place, Eliott.”

Eliott nodded, a bit dazed, but he got up nevertheless, and together they left Yann’s apartment.

When they reached the street, somehow, their hands found each other, and they held on to each other as if their life depended on it.

Lucas thought they would be okay.

*****

Eliott looked at Lucas sleeping peacefully. It had been so long since he’d been able to hold a sleeping Lucas in his arms. He knew it would take time for them to heal. There would be setbacks, and fights, and wounds they thought had scabbed over would open up again, and they would make mistakes. They hadn’t miraculously forgotten about the pain they inflicted on each other. But they had committed they were in this together.

He thought about how he had felt lost in the maze for the longest time. He had felt like it was his destiny to roam around on the jumbled paths, taking the wrong turn at every opportunity, never finding a way out. And then Lucas had come into his life, and with him the promise of the thread that would guide him out of the labyrinth.

And even though he had, in his fear for the unknown world outside of the maze, for what lied behind the familiar paths, violently torn the thread, Lucas had given him chance after chance. Lucas was here, now, with him. His lifeline, his saviour.

He let his knuckles glide over Lucas’ cheek, tenderly, careful not to wake Lucas.

He didn’t want to close his eyes and lose a moment of the joy that threatened to overflow him at the sight of Lucas cuddled up against him. He was gorgeous, but it was the trust and love in him that took Eliott’s breath away. It had become so customary for Lucas to get up as soon as he had come down from his high after sex, that Eliott had been confused for a second when Lucas had sleepily burrowed into Eliott’s side.

But it already felt like the most natural thing in the world again. It always had been so easy with Lucas, before Eliott had tried to fuck it all up. He didn’t know how he had gotten lucky enough to have found his way back to this.

He felt the tiniest pang of regret at having wasted all this time. If he had been brave enough to let Lucas in, they could have had this years ago. They wouldn’t have hurt each other almost to the breaking point.

But there was no use in dwelling on the past. They had learned they didn’t want to live without each other, and that was a strong foundation for their future.

Eliott could barely wait until Lucas woke up to start their lives together.

He didn’t need to be afraid anymore. Lucas wouldn’t leave.

**Author's Note:**

> Please feel free to point out any errors.
> 
> And, uh, maybe leave me a comment? I will love you forever.
> 
> <3


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